I couldn’t breathe. The ground swayed beneath my feet. The grief-stricken faces around me blurred together. My throat began to close up and I squeezed my eyes tightly, brimming with tears. I hoped, maybe, this was just a horrible nightmare and I would wake up and everything would be fine. That this was just a figment of my imagination and when I opened my eyes, they would be okay. That they would still be alive. But this was no dream. My parents were gone. The doorbell rang and its tone resonated throughout the house. Two weeks had passed since my parents’ death and the grief was drowning me. I carefully placed the picture of my parents on my desk and trudged to the door. He was here. My perfect older brother from Yale. You know that one kid that every …show more content…
Pictures were shattered and their room, that I had so perfectly tried to preserve was trashed. Clothes were scattered on the floor and furniture was flipped over. At that moment, all my pent up anger and sadness and grief burst through. Overwhelmed by my emotions, I just collapsed and began to cry. Ugly wet sobs erupted from my chest. I mourned. I mourned for my parents that I never got to say goodbye to. I mourned for the brother I had seemingly lost. I mourned for all the lost moments I would never have because of my broken family. Through my tears, I saw my brother standing in front of the fireplace mantle. The flames still burned brightly and cast gauntly shadows on my brother’s face. He held a picture frame in his hand, and although I was too far away to see the picture, I knew what it was. Standing up, I walked over to my brother and embraced him in a hug. He too, grieved over the loss of our parents. Tears wet his cheeks and Instead of opening mourning, he chose to cover up his grief. He went out and partied. He put on a fake facade of
When I walked inside the front door something didn’t seem right. The feeling of sorrow overwhelmed the house. It was so thick I could literally feel it in the air. Everyone was motionless. They were sulking;I was befuddled. The most energetic people in the world, doing absolutely nothing. I repeatedly asked them what was wrong. After an hour or so, my dad pulled me aside. He said that my Aunt Feli had passed away last night. My mind went for a loop, I was so confused. I thought that he was joking, so I replied “You’re lying, don’t mess with me like that.” and punched his shoulder softly while I chuckled. My dad quickly started tearing up and said, “There...
I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.
The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail. (excerpt-Faulkner's Nobel Prize acceptance speech)
I figured someone had passed away, but I didn't think much of it. My father spoke to me in a very calm and soft voice with tears in his eyes. In between his words you could hear the hurt. He told me that my godmother had passed away. I sat there not knowing what to say, but could feel the hurt overwhelm me.
Although death seems to be a theme for many literary poems, it also appears to be the most difficult to express clearly. Webster’s Dictionary defines the word “death” as, “A permanent cessation of all vital function: end of life.” While this definition sounds simple enough, a writer’s definition goes way beyond the literal meaning. Edwin Arlington Robinson and Robert Frost are just two examples of poetic writers who have used death successfully as the main theme of their works. Robinson, in the poem “Richard Cory,” and Frost in his poem, “Home Burial,” present death in different ways in order to invoke different feelings and emotions from their readers.
It was the middle of the night when my mother got a phone call. The car ride was silent, my father had a blank stare and my mother was silently crying. I had no idea where we were headed but I knew this empty feeling in my stomach would not go away. Walking through the long bright hallways, passing through an endless amount of doors, we had finally arrived. As we
I shook my head, ashamed for invading my friends’ tragedies with memories I conjured up by their descriptions of them. I was still staring at Alice’s relaxed posture. The frown on her face was evident even while she rested unconscious with wrinkles near her seventeen year old eyes. I could still see the scar from stitches. Vesper shifted under the blankets on Alice’s couch. He was missing a father while Sebastian and I were missing a mother. But Alice was missing the two people that had given her life and left while she was living it. A trust fund was left in their
... at the man, the unbidden memory of my parents’ lifeless body in the open casket washes over my mind. My head begins to throb. I fight back tears, screaming in agony.
I could feel my tiny feet embrace my family 's short, dirty brown carpet. The cool air tickled my skin to form goosebumps. My eyes took in the yellow-white paint that was peeling off at the base of the floor. It was dark outside, but the lamp light was on. My eyes wandered to my mother 's face, with her eyebrows squished together. I thought she 's mad or worried. Her warm and big hands were on my shoulders. I can faintly smell her sweet shampoo. She parted her lips and said, "We are going to a new home. I want you to go pack your stuff." She ushered me upstairs. My confusion turned into pure joy. This was the best day ever! Have you ever had the feeling of your heart being crushed while your stomach constricted and turn from
I cried in my room for hours wishing my dad would not go, a whole month without him seemed like the end of the world. I would have no one to play hockey with, no one to tuck me in at night and no one to eat donuts with every Friday. My dad tried to console me but I was too angry to listen to him, I suddenly hated my grandpa for causing my dad to leave me alone. At the airport my dad gave me a long hug and told me to be brave since I was now “the man of the house,” (even though I am a girl), I had to take care of my mom. Promptly this made me suck in my tears and stop acting like a “loser.” It was hard repressing my feelings, seeing my dad leave made my eyes tear severely but I held them back, the man of the house does not cry. Time went by faster when I was at school, I had less time to miss my dad. About two weeks later, my mom got a call from India, my grandpa had died. My mom broke down crying, she slammed the phone across the room into the wall. I felt scared to appr...
As I walked in to their bedroom, I found my mother sitting on the bed, weeping quietly, while my father lay on the bed in a near unconscious state. This sight shocked me, I had seen my father sick before, but by the reaction of my mother and the deathly look on my father’s face I knew that something was seriously wrong.
The phone fell from the woman's hand, landing with a loud crash on the tile floor and busting to pieces. No matter how hard she'd try, she couldn't help the sobs that escaped from her mouth. They became louder and louder, until suddenly they came to a stop. All emotion flooded from her body, and she lay there motionless on the tile. Her two young children hovering over her, fear evident in their eyes. She sat up, grabbing her two young children into her arms, hugging them tighter than she ever had.
Dying Man Restores a 70 Years Old Church and the Outcome was a Miracle Restoration of a decaying church led to a surprise This story belongs to a man named as Greg who was suffering from a life threatening disease, cancer. Greg was just 57 years old and was diagnosed with this disease and when he came to know this he was already at stage 4. Normally, there is a certain time which helps in saving life from this disease but once the time lapses there is no way out. Hence, after being at stage 4 the disease of Greg also became incurable and as per the analysis of doctors he had a few months only.
Even though I clearly remember all the sanity me and my little family went through. I never wanted them to know their mother just up and disappear on them. I took a deep breath and was about ready to tell them the whole truth. They already knew too much. But right before I could speak, I became suddenly unspoken-less. They gave me this look, not a look of sadness, more like a look of pride and honor. They both huddle close to me and gave me a hug. The words that came from their mouths next. I 'll never forget
On the day my father died, I remember walking home from school with my cousin on a November fall day, feeling the falling leaves dropping off the trees, hitting my cold bare face. Walking into the house, I could feel the tension and knew that something had happened by the look on my grandmother’s face. As I started to head to the refrigerator, my mother told me to come, and she said that we were going to take a trip to the hospital.